


The Twelve Days of You-Know-What-Mas

by WhyArentIBlessd



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bunker AU, Castiel in the Bunker, Destiel - Freeform, Human Lucifer, Lucifer in the Bunker, M/M, Samifer - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2014-03-17
Packaged: 2018-01-06 22:19:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1112181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhyArentIBlessd/pseuds/WhyArentIBlessd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I'm on a Christmas carol rampage, Supernatural-style. "The Twelve Days of Christmas" is an English Christmas carol that enumerates a series of increasingly grand gifts given on each of the twelve days of Christmas in the manner of a cumulative song. The song, first published in England in 1780 without music as a chant or rhyme, is thought to be French in origin. And this year...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> On the first day of You-know-what-mas, Sammy gave to Dean the idea for kinky Santa sex.

Sam had been so reluctant to have Christmas that year, that when Dean had brought it up over breakfast, he practically squealed.

"Sammy, are you gonna put up the tree or do Cas and I need to go out and start hacking at some wood?" Sam, who had just put his coffee to his lips, spat it across the table, soaking the trench coat angel who'd just sat down and gaping at Dean in horror. Lucifer turned faintly at the sound, saw Castiel soaked in coffee, and laughed once under his break as he continued dishing himself more of Dean's food. "Sam?"

"Dean, can I talk to you for a minute?" Sam as quick to set his mug down -maybe a little too hard, seeing the brown slosh over the brim- and he stalked over to the next door he could find. It was Castiel's room -and Dean's by that undeclared extension- but Sam didn't give a damn as his brother followed him and closed the door.

"What's up, Sa-" "I don't think Christmas would be a good idea." Sam blurted, hushing his tone and eying the door behind Dean. His brother looked momentarily heartbroken, but h recovered enough to be outraged and a little angry.

"What do you mean you 'don't think Christmas would be a good idea'?" Dean hissed, catching his shirt. "It's  **Christmas**! You know, tacky songs, fattening food, trees, church, stuff- what about that isn't a good idea, Sammy?"

"We've literally got Satan sleeping on the couch, Dean." Sam pulled out of his brother's grip and waved a hand at the door, hunching his shoulders. "How is the biggest observed holy holiday in Catholicism a good idea to you?! Having Christmas with Luce just spells hellfire with a capital 'H'."

"Did you just call-" "Pay attention." Sam caught his brother's eye with a faked swat and said: "We  **cannot** do the whole Christmas thing this year. I'll still give you stuff, and you and Cas can have your kinky Santa sex or whatever, and you can make  **all**  the Christmas cookies your Betty Crocker heart desires, but  **do not**  mention the Xmas."

"Alright, alright," Dean snorted, trying to wave Sam off and get the 'kinky Santa sex' image out of his head. "No Chr-" "Not even the  **word**." Sam interrupted, grabbing one of his own elbows and pulling it like a nervous girl. "Promise me, Dean. No you-know-what-mas stuff."

"Sammy-" "Promise me." Sam said shortly, and Dean rolled his eyes when his younger brother stretched out a hand between them. " **Dean**..."

Dean caught his outstretched hand. "I promise, Sammy, that I shall not do any you-know-what-mas stuff when Nick's around."

"'When Nick's around'?!" Sam choked "But Dean-"

"Sorry, Sammy," Dean left the room with a roguish grin. "but the kinky Santa sex has to stay."

Sam groaned, but didn't protest; he'd gotten what he wanted this Christ- I mean,  _you-know-what-mas_.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On the second day of You-know-what-mas, Sammy gave to Dean hell for decorating the bunker.

When Sam woke up the next morning, he rolled over and groaned as the smell of gingerbread wafted under his nose. He vaguely hoped Dean had controlled himself a little as his feet met the floor and he staggered over the bedroom door with hesitation. He didn't know what he would see when he opened it and something told him he really didn't want to, but he closed his fingers around the handle and threw it open with a deep breath.

Christmas was  _everywhere_.

Sam gaped at the Christmas decorations, and the Christmas lights, and the Christmas cookies littered around the bunker's main room. He could hear Led Zepplin playing in the kitchen, locating Dean right out, and Sam saw Castiel struggling with something along one wall.

"DEAN!" Sam fisted his hands at his sides as his eyes located a banner right above the TV, a bright 'MERRY CHRISTMAS!' across the wall, and his brother poked his head out of the kitchen.

"Yeah, Sammy?" His apron and flour-streaked face tried to face innocence, but Sam saw the mischief in hisbrother's eyes and fumed. "What's got your panties in a twist today?"

Sam pointed at the banner accusingly. "What. Is  **that**." Sam didn't even bother to make it a question; he  _knew_  what Dean was doing, and it made him even angrier when Dean looked and his eyebrows rose. "You promised, Dean!"

"Oh, Jesus," Dean said, shrugging and continuing to stir the mix in the bowl he was holding. "I forgot." His t-shirt was plain, flecked with bits of baked good yet to make it to the oven, and his face was merry behind his faked concern. "Sorry, Sammy, Cas and I will-"

"Dammit, Dean," Sam hissed, "I asked you for  **one**  thing this year and you can't even do that for me!"

"Sammy-" "Dean," Castiel broke in, holding the banner in his arms. "Sam has a point. Did you promise?" His dark eyebrows rose and Dean struggled to find something he could say to wriggle out of his promise to Sam.

"He did." Sam grunted, snatching a porcelain Santa off the table. It disappeared into his hand and Dean scowled at his brother when he ratted him out.

"Dean..." Castiel said meaningfully, crossing his arms over his chest. "you gave him your word. Don't make me waste Grace to fix the-" In an instant, Dean was ripping down the 'Christmas' of things, stuffing it all back into a big Walmart bag, and Sam waved the ceramic Santa tauntingly.

"Bitch." Dean grunted, "Grinch."

"Jerk." Sam shot back, dropping the figurine sourly. "Bah humbug." Sam followed his brother's lead, thanking the trenchcoat angel with a smile, and soon the bunker was home to a tree full of decorations, a kitchen full of cookies, and a ramshackle group of humans and angels.

"Well," Lucifer said lazily, kicking off his boots and wandering into the living room. "that's a biggie, Deano. Did Cassie get it for ya?"

"NO!" "Yes,"

"I thought so." Smirking and seeming to avoid the tree, Lucifer stalked across the room and he came Sam's way; despite their shared home, Dean still tensed as the Devil approached his little brother. "Here ya go, Sammy," The hunter stiffened as the devil hung something off his shirt collar and, looking down instead of at the Devil's face as he passed, Sam saw a handful of candy canes decorating his collar. "some woman gave em to me on the walk back. They're good, but I don't want em."

Lucifer patted Sam's chest, shooting the tense older Winchester a mocking wink, and he disappeared as the shower started up. "Later, losers." Sam waited for the water's pitch to change, meaning the fallen angel was in the shower.

"You see?" He growled, waving a hand at the door. "Look what you and your decorations did now!" He ignored Dean's protests and returned to his bedroom to get dressed, scowling deeply.

' _Tomorrow will be better_ ,' He told himself. ' _tomorrow will be better._ '

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I really think about it, I love this series a little bit. Just a small twisted chunk of my heart loves this series. :S I don't understand...
> 
> Do any of you like it? What do you like?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On the third day of You-know-what-mas, Sammy gave to Dean rude cookies and a nice group movie.

Unfortunately, the next day was not 'better', as Sam had hoped.

"SAMMY!" He shot out of bed and shouted hoarsely, hitting his floor hard just out of reach of his salt gun, and Sam rolled over to meet his older brother's cheery expression.

"Dean?" Sam groaned, pushing up on his elbows.

"Morning, little brother!" Dean grinned, "Ready for some baking?"

"You did it all  **yesterday**." Sam rose disbelievingly to his feet, feeling a wedgie coming on, and he pulled at his shorts sleepily as he rubbed one eye. "God, Dean, I don't  **do**  baking. Remember what happened-"

"I'm not letting you anywhere near my stove." Dean was serious as he led Sam into the kitchen and he sat him down forcefully at the table. "You get to  **ice**  them."

"Dean-" "Unless," Sam froze as his older brother's voice dropped into a low, conspiratory growl. "you want me 'n' Cas to stay in today and sing Christmas carols, and be generally disgusting." And so, Sam found himself spending his morning in his boxers at the kitchen table, icing cookies with increasingly vulgar and mocking design.

The angels soon all wore blue ties and trenchcoats or looked to Gabriel-esque for denial, and the wreath -after many trials, became demon-warding circles. Presents became cages when he got particularly vicious, and a few of the gingerbread men bore 'Hello, my name is' tags with expletives and insults instead of names.

"I like." Lucifer stood, smirking, at Sam's shoulder suddenly. Sam jumped and dropped the little man; his ugly icing face was supposed to be Raphael, but he couldn't vouch for it's accuracy.

"Lucifer!" Sam managed, his voice strangled.

"Raph, right?" Smirked the Devil, turning the cookie this way and that. "I think I'll-" The cookie lost it's head to Lucifer's white teeth, and Sam couldn't hold back a small laugh. Lucifer leaned in, gnashing his teeth as he chewed and making loud 'om'nom' noises, and son Sam's laugh was hearty and loud.

Lucifer swallowed. "Mmm, tasty."

"Oh, God," Sam choked, trying to hold his laughter back. "I can't even- Lucifer-"

"Yes?" Sam turned a little in his chair, seeing Lucifer now leaning on the counter with a glass of milk, and couldn't help but grin. "What's up, Smiles?"

"You are just so..." Sam couldn't even put a word to the fallen angel, shaking his head, and he glanced at the pile of uniced cookies with failing amusement. "God,"

"Usually it's 'Devil'," Lucifer mocked, grinning, "but 'God' will do, Sammy. If it didn't, we'd be  **smited**!" Waggling his free fingers, Lucifer gave the sky a mockingly-fearful cower and he straightened, laughing heartily as he finished his drink. "Whadda ya say we" With a snap of his fingers, the cookies were iced like his others and equally as vulgar. "have some fun? I know there's that hobb-it thing you wanted to see. Let's go and crash Deano's love shack down, eh."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh God. I realized at the end that Sam was in his panties and a t-shirt the whole damn time. Does this get any more awkward?
> 
> What do you think?


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the fourth day of You-know-what-mas, Sammy gave to Dean some bruises and a new stereo.

_"We wish you a merry"_   **Beep. Beep**.  
 _"We wish you a merry"_   **Beep. Beep**.  
 _"We wish you a merry"_   **Beep. Beep**. _"and a Happy New Year;"_  
 _"Good tidings we bring to you and your kin;"_  
 _"Good tidings for_ "  **Beep. Beep.**   _"and a Happy New Year."_

Dean looked over at Sam, his scowl dark, and Sam just smiled, continuing to jab the power button of the plug-in stereo with a wide bitchy grin. He knew there was nothing Dean could do; Castiel was holding him to his promise by his balls, and Sam was content to use it to his advantage.

"Something wrong, Dean?"  **Beep. Beep.**   _"and a cup of good cheer."_

"Nothing." Dean growled, drinking deeply from his mug. He faked a smile with 'Bitch' written across his teeth, and Sam smiled similarly back at him. "I love the station though, Sammy, good choice."

"Thanks."  **Beep. Beep.**   _"so bring some out here."_

 _"We wish you a merry"_   **Beep. Beep**.  
 _"We wish you a merry"_   **Beep. Beep**.  
 _"We wish you a merry"_   **Beep. Beep**. _"and a-"_   **BZZZTKRRRGFT!**

Sam yelped and jumoed back from the table as the stereo's antenna conducted a brief bolt of electricity, shokcing him, and with a loud bang it started to smoke fiercely.

"WHAT DID YOU DO?!" Dean cried, jumping off the couch and abandoning his mug to cradle the smoking radio n his arms like a child, unplugging it. "My poor baby! You  **fried**  my radio! SAMMY!" Sam paled, staring at his brother's increasingly-angry expression, and he regret-ted even touching the device.

"...I'll get you a new one." Sam offered lamely, but Dean had already dropped the carcass of his stereo and he lunged at his younger brother. Soon, they were in a scuffle and beyond listening to the angels in the room.

"You know, Cassie," Lucifer said, taking Sam's coffee for his own as they knocked the table over. "when I shorted that radio, I wanted some peace and quiet, not these shenanigans."

" **You**  broke Dean's radio?" Castiel asked, surprised, "Shouldn't you say something? Sam is being obviously outmatched and injured in your place."

"He'll be fine." Lucifer shrugged and pressed the empty cup into Castiel's hands. "He's hardier than he looks." He glanced at the scuffle when Sam gave a triumphant grunt and got on top of his brother, and smirked as he walked away. "See?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm enjoying this series more than I thought. I'm really just blowing off some holiday steam, but it's rather soothing. :) Watching the 'Lord of the Rings' trilogy and eating some chocolate. Best way to write some Samifer(is there any?).
> 
> What do you think, guys?


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the fifth day of You-know-what-mas, Sammy gave to Dean a lot of rum in every egg nog.

"Dean, I must insist your consumption of this 'egg nog' is quite unhealthy." Castiel said quietly, eying the mug Dean was draining with distaste. "It smells like the flesh on the bottom of Sam's foot."

"But it tastes like sex for breakfast." Dean said resolutely, sighing with delight as he set the cup down hard like a shot glass and wiped his mouth. "Don't knock it 'til you try it."

"I must decline." Castiel made a face and Dean laughed, seeing Sam make the same expression. "Sam has told me much of this 'egg nog'. It is in no way pleasant."

“Sammy’s just ragging on it for being a _Christmas_ drink, Cas!” Dean protested sourly, “He’s got his head up everybody’s ass about it and having Nick ‘round. He doesn’t want him to go all I‘ll-end-the-world on us, I guess, but I really don’t give a damn.” He shifted in his seat, rubbing his nose, and grinned wolfishly at the other man. “He can go have a little tantrum and cry himself to sleep, for all I care.”

“Sam’s determination _is_ admirable,” Castiel settled next to Dean at the main table, curling his legs up under him like a bird with its wings. “Lucifer isn’t exactly welcomed in many circles with the open arms Sam is showing him.” He regarded the big table fondly, the many lights and connecting lines spanning Earth’s continents.

“As long as his _legs_ aren’t open to him too...” Dean grumbled, staring into his empty mug crossly. “I don’t need to hear my brother getting any in the bunker at night. Least of all with Satan.”

“My brother would be perfectly companionable to Sam.” Castiel edged a little closer to Dean’s side and shifted his legs into a more comfortable position. “I have no objections should our brothers decide to couple, Dean. They would be good for one another.” His chair squeaked as he moved, and Dean caught the movement.

Dean leaned his head back and sighed heavily, his chair tilting. “Please shut up, Cas. I don’t want to _think_ about them _doing_ it.” His hand grabbed at one of Castiel’s shoulders, clenching tight, and he felt the angel sigh even if he didn’t hear it.

“I was not alluding to Lucifer and Sam engaging in intercourse, Dean, but I shall... ‘let your imagination do the work’.” Castiel spoke again, unaffected by Dean’s embarrassment, and Dean groaned loudly as his mind did just as the angel had said and poisoned him with it. He sat up quickly, sending the angel’s chair rocking with  the weight he’d removed, and swept up his cup from the table. He ruffled his short hair and scowled at the idea still tailing him and looked down at Castiel with a softer frown.

“I’m gonna go get some more eggnog, Cas. Tell Sam I’ll be back,”  
And then Dean was gone, one arm in his coat.

“Finally.” Sam slipped out of the hall and stretched his shoulders lazily. “I thought he’d never leave.”

“Sam?” Castiel frowned. “I am confused. Why is Dean’s departure so positive? This... time of year, isn’t it about togetherness, and celebrating the glory of God?” Sam didn’t correct him; Lucifer didn’t seem to mind when Castiel spoke about God and the other angels, thankfully. He just accepted it from the dark-haired angel and moved on to bothering Dean or Sam. More often, he teased Dean until he snapped, and then he followed his victim all the way to Sam, where Dean complained and left them alone so that he could work on his car in peace.

“It is,” Sam sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “but he’s had so much of that eggnog that I can small it on him like sulfur. I can’t take it.”

“It’s true. Dean stinks like rotten eggs and bad sugar.” Lucifer followed the taller Winchester and he grinned as Castiel’s eyebrows rose. “Sam’s got a point, Cassie-boy.”

“Well,” Castiel shrugged and looked away, his mind working over Lucifer’s grin heavily. “that’s a shame.”

“A crying.” Sam nodded and looked around; his nose wrinkled at the sight of the empty carton on the map table. “He’s even _littering_ this junk around here! Gah- _Dean_!”

“I neglect to see how Dean’s excessive egg nogging is a problem, Sam. You are not confined to the bunker alone.”

“Sam shouldn’t need to leave to be comfortable.” Bit Lucifer sharply, standing close on the tall hunter’s right. “He doesn’t make _him_ leave if he has rabbit food for lunch.” He was oddly biased. “He has _all_ rights to complain!”

“It’s fine.” Sam shrugged it off. “I’ll just-“ “Deal with it?” Lucifer’s voice was sour like lemons. “Let Dean shoot back more egg gross? Come _on_ , Sammy, don’t let him walk all over you.”

“Don’t call me ‘Sammy’.” Grunted the hunter as he leaned away from the hand on his arm. “I’m not getting Dean back for drinking egg nog.”

“Not even if it’s harmless?” Sam gave Lucifer a long doubtful look. “Okay, _mostly_ harmless.”

“I’m not selling a soul to get back at him.” Sam said resolutely, and Lucifer’s sudden bark of laughter shocked him like a bolt of lightning. His face screwed up: “What’s so funny?”

“You, Sam.” Lucifer leaned on Sam’s arm, tilting his hips, and faked wiping a gleeful tear from his eye as the laughter wound down. “You’re hilarious. I didn’t have anything that _extreme_ in mind; just some human-level shenanigans.” From his lower height, Lucifer looked up into Sam’s cloudy face, his lips curling upwards in a crooked grin that made something in Sam’s younger brother nature stir. Lucifer saw the stirring and grinned.

“I’m listening...” Sam’s tepid tone was a small victory and, shooting the objecting Castiel a silencing look, Lucifer laid down his plan at Sam’s feet.

“When he comes back, he’ll have a fair bit of egg gross with him. I happen to know he has a fair bit of alcohol stowed away in the old M.O.L’s cabinet. When Deano’s gone and dropped his guard, I say we mix ‘em together and let him drink himself under the table. He’ll spend the rest of the evening worshipping the porcelain throne, and you and I will be forever free of that stink.” As his plan wrapped itself up in a pretty final bow, Lucifer clapped Sam on the shoulder and held their eye contact. “So, do we have a plan?”

Castiel was quick to play devil’s advocate. “Sam, your brother drinks a fair amount on his own. It would be difficult to incapacitate him with liquor without him noticing.” Lucifer cursed the angel in his mind as Sam’s head bobbed in agreement and then his attention returned to the devil.

“That’s where the angel mojo comes in.” Lucifer supplied, making a finger gun of each hand. “Did you think Gabe was the only one with a sense of humor up his sleeve? If he doesn’t notice it, he’ll drink himself silly and he’ll dump the rest. He’ll be so sick of it come morning; you’ll never have to deal with this egg gross ever again.” He knew he was persuasive, so Sam’s resilience to his suggestion was surprising and refreshing. Cocking an eyebrow, Lucifer extended his free hand for Sam to shake. “What do you say, Sam?”

The hunter stiffened, but gripped his hand firmly. “Let’s do this.” From the hall, the pair could hear Castiel groan in disapproval, but he said nothing more about the whole thing.

* * *

“CAAAAAASSSSSS!” Dean’s coarse groan echoed off the bathroom, the hallway and the marble tiles. “HRRRGGGKKK!” As the retching sounds made it over the sound effects of the Enterprise’s take-off, Lucifer gave Castiel a pointed look that drifted toward the door.

_“Castiel, I would appreciate you shutting up your hunter boy.”_ Lucifer thought, shooting it out over the collective and right into the other angel’s mind. _“He is ruining this movie for my vessel, and myself now that I think about it.”_

_“Maybe you shouldn’t have gotten him so drunk.”_ Castiel scoffed back, his eyes forward.

_“Maybe you should just ‘fall to iniquity’ and sleep with the poor bastard.”_ When Castiel turned to look at him in shock, Lucifer was smiling knowingly as he always had- even in the early days of Heaven, Lucifer had been able to give him that smile and just _know_. _“You would both be a lot better off. **And** I could finally give some... you know, ‘tips’, to someone other than Gabriel.”_

Castiel choked and got up hurriedly, making Sam fall into the empty space and shift into the warm spot he’d left behind. He saw Lucifer shift subtly and, rolling his shoulders, he adjusted himself as if his wings were still there to accommodate. He shook his head, seeing Sam glance at it as well, and smiled to himself as he walked away.

* * *

_On the fifth day of You-know-what-mas, Sammy gave to Dean a lot of rum in every egg nog._


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the sixth day of You-know-what-mas, Sammy gave to Dean a bunch of mutilated You-know-what-mas cards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I’M SO, SO SORRY! I DIDN’T MEAN TO LEAVE IT THIS LONG! TT^TT I JUST GOT SO SIDETRACKED BY MY HOBBIT MUSE AND ALL THE SHINY CUTENESS THAT CAME WITH IT! I’LL FINISH THIS, I SWEAR!

“ _SAAAAAAAM_!” Dean’s face was redder than Castiel had ever seen, and the crumpled pieces of paper in both fists made him extremely curious. Approaching the hunter cautiously, the angel took a clenched hand and uncurled Dean’s callused fingers.

He was holding... a Christmas card?! Castiel frowned, uncrumpling the wad of card and reading the bright, bold text on the front. It said ‘MERRY [_______]MAS! AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR!’, and a big crooked rectangular hole replaced the ‘Christ’ in what was supposed to be ‘Christmas’. Castiel frowned deeper and picked up another card, one face down on the floor, and he turned it over to another hole in the holiday name.

Again, the ‘Christ’ was missing.

“...why’re you shouting?” Sam groaned, leaning heavily on the rail upstairs and rubbing one eye. “Why are you even _up_? _I’m_ sleeping still, Dean.”

“WHAT. HAVE YOU DONE. TO MY _CHRISTMAS CARDS_?!”

* * *

_On the sixth day of You-know-what-mas, Sammy gave to Dean a bunch of mutilated You-know-what-mas cards._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Jeez, was that half-assed to you or was it just me? I just couldn’t draw it out any longer...

**Author's Note:**

> No, I'm not sorry. :) I am nowhere close to sorry. I just got this idea IN CHURCH, and I'm not even sorry. I think the guy sitting in front of me knew what I was thinking. He wouldn't light my little candle thing when we were passing the flame around. If you ARE that guy, I'm sorry.
> 
> What do you guys think?


End file.
